The Company of An Elf
by Simpa007
Summary: The group are joined by Ulren, an Elf, and ward of Thranduil. A friend to Gandalf, and somewhat of an enemy to Thorin. She vows to care for Bilbo throughout the quest, but is bitter about the rest of her company. Perhaps such a quest can change such a thing. (Involves an OC)
1. Chapter 1

**{AN:** _First of all, a big 'hello!' to people. I'm more than grateful that you've actually taken the time to click the link and give this a try. Secondly, I'd like to warn people: as much as I may know the Lord of The Rings films backward, I have only seen The Hobbit once so far. I know, it's shameful. And so, some things may be inaccurate. Please bear with me on this? Thank-you. Also, I do not speak Elvish –as much as I would like to- and my translations come from online. If you have any corrections for me, I'd be glad to hear them._

_This story will not necessarily continue without some feedback from this chapter. Just, if you could, let me know on what you think of my character? I'd be majorly grateful._

_I think that's it. Thank-you, again. Reviews and such are welcome._

The Company of An Elf.

The Hobbit hole was lit with a dull orange glow. The few candles dotted around gave somewhat of a calm feeling to her as she wandered the halls and small rooms. Of course, due to her height, much of her time here had been spent bent over, almost double. The Elf had kept herself from the dining room, deciding to stay closer to the front door of the small home, should escape from the twelve Dwarves suddenly be needed. However, singing had begun. She could hear it through the walls; it drifted through the air like something terrible. Still, the upbeat tune had caused her to turn and make her way back to them. The tranquil feeling of the hole had all but gone upon seeing the group of smaller folk. There, Bilbo fumbled through the large group, nervously plucking plates from their grips and trying to catch the precious china as it flew through the air.

Ulren kept her distance, taking to standing silently by the fire, her arms folded over her chest as she assessed the situation with an almost condescending glance. Dwarves… They simply irritated her. Why Gandalf had brought her with him was beyond her. However, part of her was glad — this… adventure gave her time, time away from her home, and the troubles she had there. And for that, she supposed that she was grateful to the old Wizard, who was, at that moment, simply standing amongst the Dwarves as they moved quickly, a slightly amused twinkle in his eye. At that, Ulren could do little else but chuckle to herself. The old fool was enjoying himself just as much as the other beings surrounding him.

The group suddenly stopped after a short while, the sound of the door being knocked on three times halting their movements. Ulren stood straighter, or as straight as she could in her situation, and turned toward the direction the sound had come. Gandalf had also sobered.

"He is here."

Ulren found herself sighing, "…'ai."

Stepping past her, Gandalf lay a hand on her shoulder, taking a small moment to send her a glance. It seemed to her to be both of support and warning. The smallest of smiles graced her features for a mere second. She knew better than to cause too much trouble with the being at the door.

**{::}::{::}::{::}**

"So, this is our Burglar?" Thorin took his time to pace, around Bilbo, who seemed to be becoming all the more uncomfortable. "He looks more of a grocer."

There was a quiet chorus of murmured agreement from the other Dwarves surrounding the Hobbit in the front hall. Ulren had not moved from her position by the fire, and she simply watched the exchange from, what she deemed a safe distance, if not for Thorin than for herself. Though, she did find him quite despicable, petty even. For all of his age and his wisdom, Thorin had never forgiven, and she doubted that he ever would. The day Thranduil had betrayed' him, had clearly hardened his heart. And he knew of Ulren, knew who she was. The ward of a betrayer. That was all he would ever see her as. Nevertheless, she would go with them, on this quest. Simply because she could. Perhaps it would offer some joy when irritating him? The thought caused a smile to curve her lips.

"Do you fight?" The gruff voice of the Dwarf-King brought her back from her thoughts.

"F-…fight? I tend to be rather good at conkers, if you must know." Bilbo hooked his thumbs on his braces for a moment, proud, almost. Ulren simply closed her eyes, close to exasperation. "But, I don't see how that has anything to do with anything."

"As I thought." Thorin answered, through an irritated sigh.

It was then that he spotted her, the slim, tall figure stood by the fire, or rather, hunched, her blonde hair illuminated by the flames. Thorin stepped forward, assessing her with each movement. As suspected, she countered his gaze with little hesitation. Thorin did not stand close, but was now within the room.

"Elf."

"Hîr vuin." My Lord.

Ulren quirked a small smile, enjoying the moment. For, he knew nought of what she had just spoken, and she could tell that she had already succeeded in irritating him.

"I see you've aged." She commented.

"I see you haven't."

Ulren peered down at him, leaning a little closer, studying his face.

"Could they be worry lines, Thorin? Truly, My Lord, perhaps you should take greater care of yourself?"

It was then, that Gandalf stepped forward, a spark in his eye, simply watching them for only a few seconds.

"Dinner, Thorin?"

The Dwarf nodded in response, taking to following the Wizard into the Dining Room. Gandalf mumbled as he went.

"If there is much else edible in the pantry."

**{AN:** _Short little starter, but I hope it was alright. Cheers!_


	2. Chapter 2

**{AN:** _Thank-you to all those who have already favourite and began following this story. It means a great deal, I assure you. I'm assuming that means that you enjoyed the first chapter?_

_Also, a big thank-you to __Hakoiri__ for reviewing the first chapter._

_On we go, I suppose. Reviews and such are always welcome._

_Thanks. :D_

The Company on An Elf.

Once again, the Hobbit Hole was quiet, and the company had moved themselves back into the small dining room. Ulren found herself sat on a stool in the corner of the room, still a little uncomfortable around Gandalf's group of Dwarves. There were some, the younger ones mainly; Ori particularly, who did not seem to mind her company. Or could at least tolerate it. It was Thorin and the elders who put her seemingly on edge, and so, she kept away, kept quiet.

It was Dwalin, who broke the silence, asking with something in his eye. Worry? Perhaps something akin to want?

"Will they come?" The question was directed to Thorin, who now sat with a bowl of stew.

Thorin sighed, shoulders falling for a mere moment before the familiar stern gaze returned to his eye, "The Dwarves of the Ironhills _will not_ come."

It was then that Ulren felt a sting, perhaps of sadness, most likely of pity, toward the group she found herself amongst. There they were, thirteen of the bravest Dwarves that Thorin could have mustered, left to take this quest alone. With only and Elf, a Wizard, and perhaps a Hobbit to help. Ulren licked her lower lip, turning her gaze to the floor—their Kin would not help, it must have been quite difficult to understand for them. It may have been a lost cause.

With murmurs of anticipation and worry rising throughout the room from his company, Thorin tensed, breathing becoming a little heavier for a moment before he slammed his spoon against the table, rising slightly in his seat.

"Enough. If we have read the signs correctly, which we have- then this is our time to act. The Beast has not been seen for sixty years, and now all eyes have turned to The Lonely Mountain. Seeking and evaluating the risk and the reward. We will take this chance, and we will take back Erebor!"

There was a loud sound of agreement, encouraged roars and the shaking of fists followed, cheers and shouts. Ulren could not help but allow a smile to curve her lips. As much as she may have learned to dislike the race, she would not deny that they were a hardy folk. And brave, too. Though, she would not go particularly as far as saying heroic. Her pride would not allow so. After a moment or two, a voice that had not been heard for a large amount of time perked up. Bilbo, who had overheard the small speech, had stepped across the threshold and into the room.

"Beast? What Beast?"

Bofur was more than happy to offer his reply—

"Oh, now that would be a reference to Smaug the terrible." Ulren furrowed her brow briefly. Would such a nickname truly seduce the Hobbit into suddenly agreeing to be part of their company? She thought not. Still Bofur continued, "A fire breather, teeth like razors, claws like meat hooks. Extremely fond of precious meta—"

"I know what a Dragon is." Bilbo took a step or two back, evident worry growing in his gaze. Bofur, however, seemingly did not notice the worry.

"I'm not afraid!" The shout came from the corner, from the youngest of the Dwarves, Ori, "I'm up for it! I will give him a taste of Dwarvish Iron right up his jacksy!"

A small chuckle left the Elf's lips then, and Gandalf turned, with a slightly narrowed gaze. The Dwarves however, seemed not to notice her. She licked her lips, unsure of as to what to do under the Wizard's plain gaze.

"Goheno nin." The young Elf apologised quietly before Gandalf's gaze turned somewhat passive. He gestured for her to move toward them, pulling a map onto the table and laying it flat.

Perhaps a little reluctantly, Ulren moved to the other side of Thorin, though he seemed not to notice. Too interested in the map, apparently.

"Here lies the single solitary peak," Gandalf gestured to it with a small tap of his finger, "Erebor."

There was a feeling in the air, an apprehension that seemed to emanate from the Dwarves. Some had risen slightly in their seats, eager to see their path inked on the map. Some still sat, but still they were tense, evidently in deep thought. Ulren studied their faces for a moment or two, their expressions varied. Some –the younger ones- looked filled with excitement and apprehension, though fear dwelled in their gazes also, the Elders looked simply thoughtful. It was Balin who spoke next, and Ulren turned her gaze back to the table.

"But, there is no way into the Mountain, the gate has been sealed."

Gandalf fumbled a little against the wall of the small room as he seemingly searched for a pocket or pouch of some sort amongst his grey robe. Upon apparently finding it, he pulled something out.

"That, dear Balin, is not entirely true."

An intricately designed key now sat in his palm, and the Elf leaned forward just a little, examining it with eager interest. Thorin, also, seemed utterly perplexed, and his voice was quiet, but stern when he asked—

"How did you come by this?"

"Your Father left it in my keeping, to give to you."

All watched in silence as the old Wizard twisted it in his grip.

"…If there is a key, then there must be a door." One began.

"And if there is a door, then there must be a way in."

All remained quiet, as though absorbing the new turn of events. Gandalf had done them well indeed, it seemed.

"If we do get in," Gloin began, "Then, what will we do about the Beast?"

"That is where Mr. Baggins will come in. Hobbits may go unseen and unheard when they want to. Now, Smaug will be used to the scent of a Dwarf."

Ulren stood a little straighter, still resting one palm on the wood of the table.

"But, the scent of a Hobbit may be entirely unknown to him…"

Gandalf nodded once, and then all eyes turned to the Hobbit. Bilbo looked back, eyes wide in realisation.

"Wait!"

"He's no good as a Burglar." One Dwarf exclaimed, "He is fat and soft, he cares too much for his dishes and crocheting!"

Balin sat back, a frown forming in disappointment.

"This task would be difficult—even with an Army behind us. But, we are only thirteen."

"We may be few in number," Kili resting his fist harshly against the table with a determined look in his eye, "But we are fighters. All of us!"

"—And, do not forget. We have a wizard in our company! Gandalf must have killed hundreds of Dragons in his time!"

The Elf stepped back, raising her brows with a quiet exasperated exclamation.

"'Ai…" She turned and moved back to her seat with a short sigh. This would perhaps be a long night.

**{::}::{::}::{::}**

**{::}::{::}::{::}**

"_A Elbereth Gilthoniel, silivren penna miriel,_

_O menel aglar elenath, na-chaered palan diriel…"_

She sang quietly to herself as the company rode up a slight incline. The settings around Hobbiton were quiet lovely, to say the least. Greenery seemed to be everywhere, whether wandering through farm property, through wooded clusters or simply following the road. It was calming, and pleasing to the eye- Comfortable. Though, she doubted that it would be so for the rest of the group. They had not yet seen even such a thing as rocky outcrop; the Dwarves would surely be missing what they were used to.

A sound made her sit a little straighter in her saddle, a sound coming toward them. Too quiet for the others to hear. Ulren turned slightly in her saddle, glancing over her shoulder, past the few heads of the Dwarves behind her, and back toward a field that they had crossed through. What she saw made her smile, a quiet chuckle escaping her lips as she turned back to face forward, shaking her head. She waited.

As expected, a minute or so later, a call sounded from behind the company. They halted, and turned to see their Burglar running toward them. Bilbo fumbled with something in his hand, it fluttered behind him. The contract.

"I signed it." He stood nearby then, a little out of breath and red in the face. He handed the newly finished contract to Balin, who took it in one hand and took time to examine it. At that moment, the Hobbit caught Ulren's eye with his own. She smiled warmly, and bowed her head a little in some form of greeting, before taking a breath and looking toward Thorin. He had turned also, yet still had a hard gaze. He looked toward the Elf for a moment or two, and she quirked a brow—he had not believed the Hobbit to be coming, in fact, he'd all but dismissed Bilbo entirely, and now he had been proven wrong. He scowled at her and turned his pony back up the path, calling behind him for someone to give Bilbo a Pony of his own.

"Oh, that really will not be necessary. I can keep up fine on foot!" Bilbo called back, flustered, "I have done my fair share of walking holid—"

A yelp could be heard as he was plucked from the ground and deposited on a steed of his own. For a moment, he simply sat, evidently unsure and a little nervous. However, soon he moved to walk instep between Gandalf and Ulren. The company soon quickened their pace, apparently eager to get moving.

"_O, galadhremmin ennorath, nef aeir sì aearon,_

_Fanuilos, le linnathon, nef aeir sì aearon…"_

**{AN:** _Thanks for reading, hopefully after a little more time, there will be more of Ulren. That is the idea, after all._

_Lyric translation:_

_'O Star-queen Star-kindler,__  
__Glimmering white, sparkling like jewels__  
__the glory of the heavens slides down from the firmament.__  
__Having gazed afar at the distance_

___from tree-tangled lands of Middle-earth__  
__on this side of the ocean, here, great ocean__  
__Fanuilos, I will sing to you__  
__On this side of the ocean, here, great ocean!'_


	3. Chapter 3

**{AN: **_First of all, huge thank-you to all that reviewed chapter two- __**VampWolf92**__, __**AppoloniaAstria**__ and __**ZabuzasGirl**__. Also, thank-yous to those who have favourite and alerted this. It means a great deal, truly._

_Also, a reminder that there may be mistakes along the way. Feel entirely free to correct me if you wish, I won't mind._

The Company of An Elf.

It was dark, mid-evening, when the company stopped for the night. They had climbed a rather steep incline to get to some form of definite safety— from what, however, the Hobbit with them did not know. The Dwarves all sat, with their backs against the rock of a small cave, some smoking, others already snoring. Ulren had moved away from them, happy to get, for herself, some peace. The ride had been loud, and filled with quite odd conversations, and part way through, the Elf had found herself more than glad for having the company of Bilbo and Gandalf; they offered some calm in the utter blitz that was the Dwarves' company.

So, at that moment, she sat around a slight corner, her back against the cool stone, her legs laid out in front of her, against the slightly damp grass she had settled herself, and her horse. Talagor, or fastfoot in the common tongue, was away from the other ponies, as if he had sensed her disagreement, her unease, and he now stood silently by her, occasionally sighing in the cool air, causing the Elf's hair to become displaced every now and then. Not that she cared for such a thing, no. In fact, she found herself thinking of home, of Greenwood; its tall trees and bright glades. That was how she had chosen to remember it, anyway. Even after Gandalf's warnings of change in the forests; dark creatures lurking, grey mist rolling in. It was horrible to think of such a cruel-sounding place as home, and so, she had simply 'forgotten' the Wise Wizard's words, and continued to remember it just as she desired so.

It was then, just as she made to shut her eyes and rest her thoughts, that a sound was carried through the air, one that made her and the rest of the company tense. It was one many of them recognised; a strangled sound of a cruel nature. Intense in the bitter night air. Talagor perked his head up and whinnied, making Ulren stand and wrap an arm around his neck. She hushed with a few quiet words near his ear, though did not move apart from that. Briefly, she wondered just how bright the Dwarves' fire had become. Could they have been spotted? About to be ambushed by an Orc pack in the dead of Night? The thought made her blink quickly, before taking a gentle hold of Talagor's reins. She led him quietly around the corner, just as Thorin stood and moved quickly away. Ulren moved her gaze swiftly from Gandalf to each of the Dwarves. Some had stirred, others had not woken properly, but it was Kili and Fili that her eyes strayed to for the longest. Kili had shrunken back, against the rock behind him, knees drawn closer to his torso, but she did not say anything.

She still listened out into the now still air, her keen hearing trying to pick up on any sound; a growl, a quick step. She heard nothing, and relaxed her shoulders a little, though her lips remained in a thin line. The Grey horse beside her, however, stood impatiently, knocking her shoulder once before turning away and back whence they had came, apparently deeming it safe enough to return to their spot. She quirked a brow in Gandalf's direction, who nodded once with only the smallest hint of a smile, before going back to smoking his pipe. Soon after, Ulren followed her horse. Not wishing to be a part of the next story that was to be told; it was the Dwarves' and theirs only.

"Áva sorya, Talagor." She whispered. With one final pat, she took to removing the horse's bridle, gentle peeling the bit from his mouth and placing it neatly in the grass beside her. "A hauta." She kissed his nose before settling down herself.

It was not too long before she heard the heavy, and rather clumsy sounding footfalls coming toward her. Ulren opened one eye and looked to the side, mustering the kindest smile that she could when faced with a young Dwarf. Ori, she believed him to be called.

"Yes?"

He shuffled on his feet, wringing his hands for a moment in front of him, before he stopped and stood tall.

"Will you not come by the fire?"

She dared not stand, not truly wishing to look down upon him. Slowly, she shook her head.

"I think not, Master Dwarf." She tugged an almost genuine smile, as though not uncomfortable with his company, "'Tis not too cold, anyway. Thank-you."

For a moment, both were silent, each of each other's gazes drifting away, unsure of as to what to do for a moment or two, before Ori bowed his head and moved off.

Once again, she shut her eyes, intending to spend at least a moment in the dark, in peace, before having to venture again the next day. However, a gruff voice broke said peace soon after she had settled once more.

"Being sociable would not hurt you, my dear."

She titled her head and looked up at him as he leaned against his staff with on hand, the other resting on Talagor's back.

"I am sociable." She countered, "During the daytime, at least… During the evenings, however, I like my peace, Gandalf the Grey." She feigned an almost scolding voice, causing him to chuckle, almost to himself.

"As do I."

"Then, seek some solitude for yourself and do not take mine from me." She turned to face the dark view once more, her expression remaining passive still, "Why do you not seek solitude?"

Gandalf watched her for a small moment, before steadying himself against his staff once more.

"My dear, we are part of a company—"

"Of Dwarves." She interrupted, her voice remaining low, almost soft, "One of which, especially, does not seem to enjoy looking at me in the sunlight, let alone the moonlight. Can I not give him peace from my antics at this time?" She finished with a wryly smile, knowing and understanding the point the Wizard was trying to make. She sighed, "One Elf amongst a host of Dwarves will do nothing, Friend. And I think you know that, do you not?"

"…Perhaps. Though, if you would simply—"

"Ván, Gandalf." She answered quickly: _I won't_, and then softer, "Ván."

He nodded swiftly, apparently seeing the unease appear within her gaze at the thought of joining the Dwarves with their fire. She did not sense belonging, and he wondered if she would at all.

**{AN:** _Alas, I have just come back from seeing the film for the second time and it appeared to re-spark my muse. I'm not too sure about the last bit of this chapter, your thoughts would be very much appreciated._

_Thank-you for reading._

_Translations:_

"_Áva sorya, Talagor."— Don't dread, Talagor._

"_A hauta."—Rest._


End file.
